And Ben…she closed her eyes, unable to bear the thought of Ben trapped with her.

Her lashes lifted, her gaze fixed on her husband’s face. She’d once found him impossibly beautiful. Now she found him impossibly frightening. “What do you want?”

“You.”

Her stomach fell, plummeting to her feet. Never. Ever, ever. She dug her fingers into her bare upper arms, fingers pressing into muscle, nails into firm flesh. “It’s not going to happen.”

He smiled, a small, hard, uncompromising smile. “It will. I’ll bet my life on it.” Kahlil moved to the door, opened it and stepped onto the small cement porch. “I’ll send my car for you tomorrow. We’ll have dinner, discuss the future.”

She lunged toward him, fists clenched. “There is no future!”

“Oh, yes, there is. How does seven o’clock sound?”

She’d have Ben here then. It would be his bathtime, then stories and bed. She couldn’t possibly go out, couldn’t possibly let Kahlil return here, either. “You can’t just bully your way back into my life. If what you say is true…” Her voice fell away. She swallowed hard, unable to fathom such a truth. After a tense silence she forced herself to continue. “I need time. I need to make some calls, and of course, there is Stan—”

“Oh, yes, nice old Stanley Hopper. Your boss, your fiancé, your insurance agent.”

“Get out.”

Shrugging he reached for the doorknob, twisting it open. “I’m staying at the Four Seasons. I won’t leave town until we’ve sorted matters out.” He leaned over, dropped a kiss on her parted lips. “By the way, you look lovely in that dress.”

She’d forgotten all about her wedding gown. Self-consciously she pressed the skirt smooth, the silk delicate and light beneath her fingertips. She’d been trying it on, making sure it didn’t need any last-minute alterations. “I wanted to see if it fit.”

“It fits.” He smiled, eyes glinting. “Beautifully.”

Bryn was still shaking an hour after Kahlil finally left. She’d changed, made a cup of tea, but couldn’t relax, couldn’t calm down.

Kahlil was wrong, he had to be wrong.